Behind The Camera
by MegaVelRaptor
Summary: College? Career? Future? It's a lot for a teenager to think about, but this day and age with the amount of fierce competition out there...Dreams can be shattered more often than they can come true. Will Dez giving up his dreams save him from utter disappointment in himself? Or will he miss out on an opportunity of a lifetime just because of his own self doubt?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I don't know what I'm doing with my life. Ah well. Here, have a story about Dez! I apologize in advance for bad writing. This was mostly practice to get me back into my writing-mojo. And cause Dez needs more stories about him, yes.**

**I don't really know how this is going to turn out yet, as it hasn't been fully planned, so bear with me here.**

* * *

"Not good enough…Not good enough!" the freckle-faced teenager shouts to his best friend. "This is not my vision, this is completely wrong!" Frustrated, he tosses his cap onto the ground, sits himself down, and takes hold of his head. His temples throb relentlessly as his stress levels rise.

"Dez! Dez, you need to relax, man," his mop-haired friend takes a seat beside him and pats him gently on the back. "You're stressing way too much over this, buddy. It's going fine and I think you sh-"

"-No! No, Austin, it is NOT fine. This video has to be perfect. If it's not, I'm not getting into USC or even NYU!"

"Dude, you're a great filmmaker and videographer. I'm sure you'll get into a great school! And it's great that you're aiming for those two, but c'mon…Wherever you go, I'm sure you'll do great, man!" Austin pushes him on, cheerfully. Usually Dez was the optimistic one in terms of career, Austin's never seen him stress so much in his life. Granted, this was about his future…

"Austin!" a familiar voice calls out to the blonde. Ally makes her way over to the two of them, looking extremely worried. Once she reaches them, she doesn't hesitate for a single moment and proceeds to chide Austin, "Austin! Are you two done shooting yet? We have a song to write! I told you, I'm going to be really busy most this week, so we need to get this done as soon as possible!"

"Wow. Seems everyone's stressing out recently," Austin stares off into nothing for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should be worried. The fact that he isn't worried starts to worry him. "Should I be worried? Everyone's stressing out about their future, but me!"

"Well, you seem to have a solid music career ahead of you, Austin. But…You do need a back-up plan, just in case…" Ally states, not noticing how gravely this affected Austin.

"Oh, no...In case what?!" Austin starts to panic. "You mean it won't last forever?" Ally sighs, smiling, and pats him on the back.

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Now, come on, we have a lot of work to do if we're going to get this done by tonight!" Ally forcibly links arms with Austin and starts dragging him away. She then stops for a moment, realizing that she forgot something. She turns to the redhead, "Oh! Hi, Dez. Good luck with your video! Bye, Dez." She proceeds to drag Austin away. Austin gives his friend Dez an apologetic wave as he leaves with Ally.

Dez takes his camera off of its tripod and starts watching all of the shots he and Austin had made together. He needed something hard-hitting for this short film. Something important that would wow the schools he's applying to. None of the shots they took seemed up-to-par. Granted, Dez isn't quite sure, himself, just what he's going for.

'What if I'm not good enough?' he questions himself. 'What if all this time, I thought I was doing a great job, but it turns out it was just a lie?' Sure, his videos of Austin had gotten plenty of hits and pretty much made Austin famous, but most of that credit goes to Austin, Dez figures. 'Maybe I'm not cut out for this….'

He tucks his camera and tripod away into his bag, and then slings the bag over his shoulder. He folds his hands in his lap and stares somberly into space. So deep in contemplation, he fails to notice another friend of his trying to get his attention.

Trish waves her hand in front of Dez's face, which finally got him to snap out of it. "Hm?" Dez looks up at her, sighs, and then continues staring at nothing while murmuring, "Oh, hey Trish."

"Well that's one of the quietest hellos I've ever gotten from you. You okay, Dez?" she actually sounds genuinely concerned.

"No," he responds simply, continuing to stare at nothing.

"Well, stop being mopey and," she clears her throat with a loud 'AHEM', then proceeds, "Guess who got a job at FilmTools?" She does her signature 'guess who got a job?' pose.

"Oh, that's nice," Dez says, not really listening. He seemed to be completely zoning out. Trish flicks him behind the ear with her fingers. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"For not listening, mush-for-brains," she chuckles as Dez rubs his ear in pain. "The reason I'm telling you is 'cause I can get you a discount on any supplies you need for your film. Now c'mon! Let's go before I'm fired!" She grabs his arm, pulls him up, and attempts to drag him over to the store. Usually, he wouldn't resist, but he seems pretty adamant on staying. "Dez! C'mon! What's wrong?"

"I…I can't," Dez shakes his head, staring at the ground.

"Sure you can! What, you got something better to do right now? This is grade-A equipment we're talking about here, Freckles! You'll be missing out. Now let's go, and don't say I've never done nothin' for ya," Trish walks behind him and vehemently pushes him forwards.

Dez catches himself after nearly falling over from Trish's forceful push. "Trish!"

"Sorry, guess I don't know my own strength," she chuckles. "Nah, I do. That was a pretty great shove."

Dez pouts and crosses his arms. "Stop it."

"How about you stop throwing a tantrum and come on already! The store closes in an hour, Dez."

"Trish, I-I can't," Dez states, a bit shakily. He seems unwell, and paler than usual.

"Dez, what's the problem? You're acting weirder than you normally do," she stops and notices how distraught he looks and figures it'd be best to take back the subtle insult. "Sorry, I didn't know you were that upset. This is pretty serious huh?"

Dez nods, still looking pretty shaken up. His gaze still at the ground, he mutters something under his breath that Trish can't quite hear.

"That better not be an insult," she chuckles a bit, trying to lighten his mood. He doesn't respond. "Dez? Hey! Freckles! I haven't got all da-"

"-I give up!" He shouts out, loud enough for others in the area to hear. They all stare for about a moment before moving on with whatever they were doing. Trish continues to stare at him, a bit frightened, and a bit worried - but mostly confused.

"Give up what?" she raises a brow. She takes note that Dez is still shaking. He looked a bit sickly, as if he hadn't been sleeping properly for weeks.

"This," he takes his camera bag off of his shoulder and places it on the ground. He finally lifts his gaze. "You can have it. You can have all of it. Sell it or something, I don't care. I can't do this anymore." Trish stares at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape.

"Dez! Are you insane?" That kind of went without saying, but this certainly was very out-of-character for him. She takes out her phone and starts scrolling through her contact list.

"Don't bother telling Austin or Ally, I'll tell them myself," Dez's gaze found itself back on the ground.

"I'm not calling them, I'm calling a shrink," Trish says, eyes still focused on her contact list.

"Why do you have a shrink's num-" Dez looks back up at her.

"-Shush. Ah, here it is!" Trish smiles, "I knew I still had that number." Just as she's about to dial, Dez snatches the phone from her. "Wh-hey! Give that back!"

Dez pockets her phone. "Trish, I'm not crazy. I'm just…Reconsidering my direction in life," Dez tries to relax a bit more, but his tenseness stays, gripping him by the neck. "I'm quitting filmmaking. Film, videos, everything. I just can't anymore."

Trish tilts her head, studying his expression, trying to figure out whether or not this was some kind of weird Dez-joke. No, he seemed all too serious.

She gingerly picks up his bag and holds it out to him with a stern look on her face, "Are you sure you wanna give this up?"

* * *

**Author's Note: That's all for now! Stay tuned for the next chapter, whenever I get that done. That is, if anyone actually wants to read it.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Let Them Bake Cake

**Sorry for the delay, here's the next chapter! Thank you for reading and reviewing. I appreciate the feedback. c:**

***Edit* Thank you WinterFairy7337 for your helpful review! I tried to clarify the job thing a bit more.**

* * *

Dez tenses up at her question. It was a simple question, but one that he did not quite have the answer to. He had been behind a camera practically his whole life – filming antics with Austin since they were little tikes. It's been more than just a hobby; it's become part of who he is.

But perhaps this is what makes it such a problem? Has he become so attached to this one direction he wanted to take his life that anything less would make him feel nothing short of a failure?

"I…I don't know. I honestly don't know, Trish. Is that bad?" Several layers of worry coat his face. His mind filled to the brim with all the things that could go wrong. College is not too far from now, is there even enough time to figure out anything else?

Trish gently puts his equipment bag back onto the ground and looks back up at him. She tightens her lips, and shakes her head. "Dez, don't be stupid. Some people take decades, even after high school, to figure out what they really wanna do in life. You shouldn't be worried!"

Her words gave him some relief, but his fears still loomed around in his mind. "But…I mean…Look at Austin and Ally, their careers are skyrocketing and you – you're in the big leagues with them…But me…I mean, Austin can hire better videographers and-"

"-Stop it, Freckle-Face. Are you even listening to yourself? Dez, that's exactly the kinda attitude that will make people walk all over you. To be the best, you gotta think you're the best. You gotta act like you're the best. BE the best. That usually helps me," she says, smugly.

"I just…I don't think I can do this," Dez's eyes lower back onto the ground. All is quiet for a few moments, as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other – hands in his pockets.

Trish sighs dramatically. "Weeell, I guess I can help you figure something out. It's not like I have anything better to do."

"Don't you have to get back to work at FilmTools?" Dez asks. Clearly he hasn't caught on to Trish's style just yet.

"Oh, that," Trish shrugs. "Eh, I'm sure they can hold up without me. Now, c'mon. What else do you enjoy doing that you could see yourself doing years from now?"

Dez goes deep into thought, staring blankly at space, yet again.

"Dez! Think of something already, I'm getting bored," Trish crosses her arms, impatiently.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Dez raises his hand, jumping a bit, childishly.

"You don't have to raise your hand you kn-"

"-I like to makes cakes!" Dez cuts her off. "Wedding cakes. Remember when I took those cake decorating classes? Even Austin said that I make a mean wedding cake." He puts on a large, goofy smile. At least he'd become his chipper self again.

Trish shrugs. "I could go for some cake. Sure! So, you wanna look into culinary schools? Or ask around local bakeries about what steps you could take or…?"

"I should enter the cake-decorating contest they're having at the beach club tomorrow!" Dez jumps again, clearly getting excited about this. It was pretty last-minute, but it seemed worth a shot.

"Oh, you're right! I forgot about that…" Trish comments. It just struck her that she works at that club. Well, she _did_. However, it's been a while since she's actually been there, so she probably would get fired upon returning. She completely forgot about her job there, and ended up getting a new one at FilmTools without quitting or getting fired from the beach club."Alright! And maybe I can pick up my last paycheck while I'm there," she says, hoping they would give her one. She needed a new handbag.

* * *

Trish and Dez head to the local grocery store. They have fun, riding around in the shopping cart, causing mayhem while collecting various ingredients for Dez's cake. After an hour or so of shopping and driving other customers crazy, Dez and Trish meet up with Austin and Ally at Sonic Boom.

"Hey guys!" Austin calls out to the two of them. "What's all this stuff?" he said, taking the bag of flour. "Oooo! Is this for the obstacle course we were making with the instrum-"

"-Austin! I told you not to do that…Again." Ally walks down the stairs from the practice room.

"No, I'm gonna bake and decorate the most awesome cake ever!" Dez smiles wide. Austin hadn't seen him this excited about anything for a while now.

"Not here…Right?" Ally asks, growing worried.

Dez shakes his head. "Nah, back at my place. We have a much better kitchen than the one here."

"Dez…There's no kitchen here," Ally comments.

"Oh…Well that explains a lot," Dez goes quiet for a moment.

"Dez what did you-" Ally starts.

"-No time to talk! Gotta bake!" Dez takes the bag of flour back from Austin.

Austin suddenly looks puzzled. "Wait…Dez…What about your short film? Don't you have a deadline coming up?" He nearly forgot about it, and wondered how Dez was doing without him helping him out. Perhaps without him there, Dez got distracted?

"Oh…Well…About that…" Dez rubs the back of his neck. "Filming...I'm…I'm just not feeling it anymore. Well, it was great seeing you two! Good luck on your song! Ciao!" Dez rushes out the store with the groceries.

Austin and Ally stare at Dez as he runs out, completely dumbfounded.

"Not feeling it anymore?" Austin looks to Ally. "What does that even mean?! Is he giving up filming?!" Austin panics. "This is bad, I need my videographer!"

Ally shoots him a glare. "Austin, this isn't about you. Dez is probably just confused right now, and you need to support him. And I'm sure he'll be fine – right Trish?"

Trish holds her hands out in front of her. "No worries, Ally. I'm handling it."

"Well handle it quick! He needs to shoot my new video for this song. He's the best videographer I know, I wouldn't have anybody else do it." Austin frowns. Dez had been filming videos of him his whole life. Having anyone else would just feel wrong to him.

Trish nods, then follows Dez out the door, carrying the rest of the groceries. "Hey, Dez! Wait up!"

* * *

Trish catches up to Dez, and then they proceed towards his car, or rather, his mom's car that he had been borrowing. They load the groceries into the back - next to Dez's film equipment bag - then hop in themselves.

After a nerve-wrecking drive to Dez's house, they gather up the groceries and head inside. Trish glares over at Dez. Whoever gave him his driver's license clearly was almost as much of an idiot as he is. Dez simply smiles, completely oblivious to why she's upset – as usual.

Once in the kitchen, Dez starts to set up all the appliances he needs. Trish sits on a stool, reading Cheetah Beat as Dez works away.

"Y'know, I could use an assistant," Dez remarks, growing kind of annoyed at the lack of help.

"I am helping, Dez! I'm uh…I'm checking these magazines for cake-decorating ideas!" she smiles. Usually Dez was easily convinced.

Nope, not today.

"That's not gonna work this time, Trish. Now come on! I need you to crack some eggs – but make sure to separate the whites from the yolk."

Trish sighs heavily and jumps off of her stool. "Oh, fine."

They work away at the cake vigorously for a few hours – stopping only for some snacks that Dez's dad supplies them with. They had a few frosting-fights in between – making a huge mess in the kitchen. Dez's parents and sister Didi joined in for part of it, then helped them clean it up.

* * *

"Well, it's getting late," Trish says, looking at the time on her phone.

"Awww," Didi frowns. "I was having a lotta fun hanging out with you, Trish!"

Trish smiles. 'Didi's pretty cool – how could she possibly be related to Dez?' Trish wonders. "I'd love to stay and hang out, but my parents expect me to go home soon. I should get going. Plus, I'm sure Dez can take it from here."

"You need a ride home?" Dez asks, dusting the flour off of his hands. He is almost entirely coated in it, only a few patches of color showing through. He certainly knew how to bake, but keeping clean isn't his specialty.

"Nah, my dad's coming to pick me up. Plus, you should probably clean up before going out anywhere," Trish laughs.

"You're telling me, cupcake-face?" Dez chuckles, hands on his hips.

Trish raises a brow, a bit weirded-out by the nickname. "Was that an insult or a flirtation?"

"What? Neither. You just got some frosting on your face," he swipes his index finger across the button of her nose, taking off the frosting. He then sticks the finger in his mouth. "Mmm! So good."

Trish gives him a disgusted look, which fades away once she hears a honk from outside. "That must be my dad. Well, I had fun you guys! And I'll see you tomorrow at the Cake-Off, Dez." She gives Didi and Dez some quick hugs, then heads out the door.

Dez smiles. It had actually been a fun night. Maybe he is doing the right thing leaving filming? It's been a while since he had felt this alive and happy. He walks back into the kitchen, and proceeds with the decorating.

* * *

**Welp, that's all for now folks! I hope you like it! I dunno, I read over it and it seems a bit rushed...But I didn't really wanna make it too long. Let me know what y'all think. I could always go back and edit things. c:**

**-AJ**


	3. Chapter 3 - Sweet Rewards

**Next chapter! WOOP. Please let me know if you guys spot any mistakes, or if anything's confusing. And happy Friday the 13th y'all! c:**

* * *

A stream of light shining through the kitchen window drapes over the red-headed pastry-chef-in-training. He lays there, exhausted from a long night's job of decorating. He had passed out on the counter while attempting to tidy up - never making it back up to his room for a proper night's rest.

His eyes flutter open slightly, and he winces a bit due to the harsh sunlight. Dez rubs his eyes as he lifts his heavy head. A small puddle of drool had collected where his mouth had been on the counter. He wipes the side of his mouth to get rid of any that had clung there.

_What time was it?_

Dez's gaze lifts up to the wall clock. His eyes were still adjusting a bit, so he had to squint. "Noon..." he says to himself, calmly nodding. Suddenly, he freezes up. "Noon...NOON?! Oh no!" He starts to panic. He opens up the fridge to pull out all three layers of the cake he had made - ready to put them up on their stands. What he saw, or rather the lack of what he saw, nearly made him faint from anxiety. "WHERE'S THE CAKE?!" he shouts out.

He starts scampering around the kitchen, trying to find any evidence of it.

While digging through some lower cabinets, the fierce voice of his friend calls over to him.

"DEZ! What the heck are you doing?" Trish exclaims, more curious than upset.

"Trish! I can't find my cake anywhere!" he pauses, then looks over at her. In a serious tone, he asks her, "Do you think the cake bandits took it?"

Trish gives him a very confused, slightly concerned look. "Dez. The cake's in the car. Me and Didi loaded it in. We didn't wanna wake you, you seemed pretty tired. She said you didn't even get back to your room last night." She picked up two of the cake stands. "Now get ready, the Cake-Off is in an hour! And dangit, Freckles, take a shower. You're still covered in flour."

Dez chuckles. "Hehe, that rhymed," he says, staring up at nothing with a goofy smile on his face. Trish lets out an exhasperated sigh, then proceeds to take the stands out to Dez's mom's car. Dez does as told and rushes upstairs to get ready to head over to Shredder's Beach Club.

* * *

"12:45!" Trish announces, as Dez continues to set up his cake and fix any last-minute issues on the frosting.

"Almost...And...Done!" Dez puts the icing tube down onto the table, then steps back to admire his work. "I did a pretty awesome job, if I do say so myself," he remarks proudly.

"Awesome job at what? Making a sad excuse for a cupcake? Heh-heeeee..." the laughter of his 'arch nemesis' shoots through Dez's ears.

"Chuck! Please tell me you didn't enter this contest. I thought we stopped with all the competing and stuff." Dez frowns. Chuck usually bested him at most things - and most of the time Dez would be able to get over it. Being in such a fragile state as he is in currently, Dez is ready to crumble in shame. Chuck shakes his head, smiling a bit.

"No worries, Red. I'm just here for the cakes and the cuties," he winks and clicks at Trish, who looks completely unamused. "Besides, I've grown up past the childish games."

"Yeah, yeah, Cowboy. Now shoo! You're making Dez here nervous," Trish shoves Chuck away.

"Ooo! Playing hard-to-get are we, Trishita Bonita?" Chuck waggles his eyebrows. His countenance suddenly changes to a fearful one after Trish gives him her fiery glare. He starts walking away, swiftly. "Maybe some other time then..."

Trish then turns to Dez. "Wow, no stupid wordplay. You two _must_ be growing up," she scoffs, while fixing up Dez's cupcake-print tie. "Alright. The judges will start coming around soon. You okay, Dez?"

Dez's anxiety levels start to rise again. Partly due to the judges, and also partly due to the fact that Trish had every capability of choking him with his tie right now. He hadn't done anything stupid so far today had he? Surely he was safe, for now? When Trish let go, he lets out a relieved sigh. "S-so what do _you_ think of my cake, Trish?"

She simply shrugs and says, "Well, I guess it's alright if that's your kinda thing. I do like the flashy colors you used, and I gotta say...Impressed with the detail." She stops herself. It isn't exactly easy for her to compliment Dez, but she figures he needed it right now. Austin and Ally were counting on her to make sure that he's okay. And well...He is her friend, too, right? He isn't completely intolerable.

Dez smiles, running his fingers through his bangs, out of habit. Surely if Trish, who really hates just about everything he does, likes his cake - then the judges surely will, right? He sits himself down on one of the nearby chairs and tries to relax. He starts to wonder,_ this cake thing is starting to get me almost as stressed-out as filming did._

_Am I doing the right thing?_

Trish notices the worry starting to crawl back up onto Dez's face. Just as she's about to give him another pep talk, the judges come by.

"Alright, entrant number thirteen...Dez-" one of the judges starts to speak.

"-DID I DO OKAY?!" Dez jumps up from his chair, shouting out nervously - cutting the judge off right before they state his last name. The judges all just stare at him, then proceed towards the cake. They all take a few minutes to walk around it, writing things down onto their notepads. Their stoic expressions start to worry him_. They don't like it...They don't like my cake!_

Trish stands besides him and grips his right shoulder. "Relax, Dez. It's just a friendly competition. You'll do fine." Dez tenses up a bit from the shoulder squeeze, at first, but relaxes when he realizes she meant him no harm. "Should I call Austin over?"

Dez shakes his head and frowns. "I called him earlier. He said he couldn't make it."

"I could probably scare him into coming anyway..." Trish suggests. Dez just shrugs.

The judges finish up, look at Dez, nod, then continue onto judging the other contestants.

"_They hate it_," Dez whimpers out. Trish pats him on the back, not really sure what to say.

* * *

"I...I can't believe it..." Dez says, seeming a bit downtrodden.

"Dez...It's okay...Better luck next time, right?" Trish pats him gently on the back. She feels that she's getting a little better at this whole 'being a supportive friend' thing with Dez.

"Are you kidding me? This is awesome! I can't believe I got second place! WOO!" he suddenly perks up and jumps up and down in excitement. "I did it! I mean, yeah sure, I didn't win...But the winner's mini-golf cake _was_ pretty cool." He admires his shiny, silver second-place trophy.

"Oh! Well, I'm glad you're happy with it then, I guess." Trish gives him a congratulatory hug.

"Thanks, Trish," he smiles down at the short girl. His tone got a bit more serious, "Really...Thanks for all the help. You're a good friend, y'know. Austin and Ally weren't able to be around, but I'm glad I still had you."

Trish rolls her eyes and playfully punches his arm. "Ah, well, don't get used to it, Freckles."

"Hey guys!" Just on cue, Austin comes running over, with Ally not far behind.

"Oh, hey Austin! Hey Ally! You guys made it!" Dez cheers.

"Yeah, sorry we're late. We tried getting here as soon as we could," Ally apologizes. Dez gives her and Austin a tight group hug.

"It's okay. I love you guys. Thanks for coming when you could." He looks over at Trish and jerks his head, gesturing for her to come over and join the group hug. Trish chuckles a little, and does so, but pulls away shortly after.

"Alright, alright, let's break it up. I dunno about you guys, but I really want some of this cake!" she rubs her hands together, staring at the cake longingly. Dez, the ecstatic smile of his only growing wider, heads towards the cake with a knife.

"Wait, Dez!" Ally shouts out.

"C'mon, Ally. I'm not a child, you can trust me with a knife. I won't do anything stupid, I promise," Dez says, semi-seriously.

Trish sharply exhales, "Don't make promises you can't keep, doofus." Dez glares at her a little.

"I'm sure they wouldn't want a knife in your hands either, cupcake-face." Dez sticks his tongue out at her. Trish gives him another weird look, then threatens to cut his tongue out. Austin and Ally laugh.

"No, Dez, I meant wait - I want to take a picture of you with the cake!" Ally explains. She takes out a camera and instructs Dez to stand by the cake. Right as she's about to hit the button, Dez stops her.

"-Wait!" he turns to Trish. "Trish, you helped me out a lot with this. I want you to be in the picture, too, _friend_." He added a very silly emphasis on the last word. Trish raises a brow, shrugs, and joins him wordlessly. It's always nice to be appreciated.

The four of them spent the next hour or so taking pictures, eating Dez's surprisingly delicious cake, and then having an epic cake-fight with the leftovers. Chuck even joined in for part of it! Two days of frosting-fights in a row? Dez couldn't be happier.

After the cake fight had died down, Austin, covered in frosting and filling, sits himself besides his equally-messy red-headed BFF. "So Dez...If making and decorating cakes is what you really wanna do...I'll support you all the way, buddy! Whatever makes you happy." Dez grins at the sentiment.

"Thanks Austin. But..." Dez's voice trails off for a moment, as he looks around at random things in the area. "There's just so many things I still wanna try out before coming to any final decisions, y'know. I mean...This was fun. But I'm not sure if it's the way I wanna go." Austin nods, understanding where his best-freckled-friend was coming from. He had faced a similar dilemma before. Besides, not many people gave Dez much credit for anything, but he had a wide array of talents.

Austin gives his friend a quick, yet meaningful hug, then says, "Well, me and Ally gotta get going. We got the lyrics mostly down, but we still need to work on the music for our new song. Wish us luck!" He links arms with Ally, who said her goodbyes to Trish and Dez, then heads back to **Sonic Boom **with Austin.

Trish looks up at her tall friend and asks, "So...What do we do now?"

Dez scratches his head in thought, then exhales. "I don't know...What do you wanna do?"

"Well...How's about we take a break from you trying to figure out your future, and head to the movies? There's this really cool sci-fi movie out I've been wanting to see for a while," Trish suggests.

"Oooo! Yeah, let's go!" Dez grabs her arm and starts pulling her towards the car.

"Dez! We gotta clean up first!" Trish shouts, stuggling to get out of his grip. "And by we, I mean you." They also needed to go home, shower, and change unless they wanted to get cake all over the theater seats.

* * *

**I hope you like this chapter you guys! I'm finally on winter break, so I have more time to write. Expect updates on this more often. ;)**

**~AJ**


	4. Chapter 4 - Movies & Mayhem

**I apologize for the extremely long delay – I know I said I'd be updating more often, but I had to work, and had some arting I needed to do…That, and some writer's block. So I will give you two consecutive chapters! WOOHOO!**

* * *

"That…W-w-was…T-terrifying…" Dez stutters, shaking while walking out of the theater into the lobby with Trish.

"I _know_. Wasn't it great?!" Trish exclaims. "I mean, I knew it was going to be sci-fi, but sci-fi and horror? Even better!" She pauses, watching him shake. The sight is quite amusing to her. "Of course, I coulda done without you squeezing my arm for most the movie. She shows him the red marks on her arm where his hands had latched onto.

"S-sorry," Dez frowns at her.

Trish shrugs and responds, "Nah, I'm sorry. I shoulda double-checked the info on the movie. I know you can't tolerate too much horror. It seemed pretty tame from the trailer, though. Hmm…Weird."

Dez shakes his head, pretty surprised that Trish had actually apologized to him. "It wasn't your fault, you didn't know. Plus, it was actually a pretty good movie, aside from nearly making me ruin my favorite pants!" Dez's face starts to brighten up.

"I thought the blue ones were your favorites," Trish tilts her head. _Why do I even know that?_, she wonders.

_Why does she even know that?_, Dez wonders, as well. "No, those are my favorite _tile-patterned _pants. These are my favorite pants overall!" he explains.

"Those aren't overalls," Trish remarks, not hearing him clearly. They both start heading over to the entrance.

"Not overalls, _over all_," Dez rolls his eyes. "And you call _me_ clueless."

Trish glares back at him with now-clenched fists, "Don't make me ruin my nice-streak, Whack-a-Doodle."

"-Y'know this movie inspired me. I'd love to make a horror movie someday. Something…Something that would even scare you!" Dez states, completely changing the subject, hoping Trish will forget about her anger towards him. It worked.

"Hey, it'll take a lot to scare m-Wait…" she pauses, thinking about what he had said. "So, you want to keep making movies then?" Trish raises a brow. She really hoped so. Team Austin needed their videographer back. She took him to a movie specifically to try to get him back "on track".

Dez simply shrugs. "I don't know…Maybe?" he starts to frown once more, as he opens up one of the entrance doors for Trish. She exits through, and he follows her out. "I still can't seem to shake off this feeling, though. I mean, I really wanna keep doing this…But maybe as a hobby? It's been stressing me out so much, Trish. I don't want to stop loving it, y'know? I love it too much to make it seem like work, I guess. I wanna keep enjoying filmmaking."

Trish nods. Dez is actually making a lot of sense, strangely enough. She thinks about her job as Austin's manager, and how she found it to be more of a fun job than actual work. She'd hate it if she lost that passion for her job as manager. Knowing exactly where Dez is coming from, she agrees. Not sure of what else what to say on the matter, the duo walks back to Dez's mom's car silently.

* * *

While driving towards Trish's place, she turns to Dez and asks him. "So…What now, Dez?"

"Dropping you off, uh, duh." Dez states in his sarcastic tone of voice. "Though I'm really flattered that you wanna spend more time with me, I actually got some errands to run for my mom and-"

"-Not that, you bozo!" Trish cuts him off. "I mean…Career-wise. You're not filmmaking, and not becoming a cake-decorator…What's next on your list to try?"

"Ohhhh…" Dez nods. "But you _do_ wanna hang out with me more too, _right_?"

"Just answer the quest- DEZ! LOOK OUT!" Trish shouts, seeing that they are getting way too close to a car ahead of them in the lane next to theirs. Dez had his eyes off the road for a little bit, causing him to nearly smash into the other car. He quickly swerves out of the way – the person in the other car shouting out profanities that he couldn't hear very well through the glass of his window. _Thankfully_. He smiles apologetically at the other driver, and then continues focusing on the road.

"We probably shouldn't talk until I get you home." Dez states, nervously, gripping at the wheel.

"I'll say. You could've gotten us both killed!" Trish growls. Dying in a car accident with Dez driving would've been a very tragic, and pretty darn predictable, way to die. Why she continues letting him drive her, she will never know.

"Or I coulda destroyed my mom's car!" Dez exclaims. "I would be dead either way."

"Okay, 'nuff talking," Trish pulls out a copy of "Cheetah Beat" from her purse and reads it silently for the rest of the trip. Of course, staying silent while Dez continues humming some annoying tunes of songs (hummed incorrectly, that is) made it hard for her to keep her mouth shut.

* * *

Dez parks the car at the curb next to Trish's place. "Aaaand, we are here!"

"And miraculously alive, thank goodness," Trish claims, raising her arms up in exasperation.

"Yeah…About that…" Dez rubs the back of his neck, as was his nervous habit. "Don't tell my mom or dad about my almost-accident. They'd never let me take the car out again!" he cries.

"They should never let you _drive_ again after that!" Trish shouts. "Ugh, anyway. Thanks for the lift, _I guess_." She starts to calm down_, for now_.

Dez smiles, "Anytime Trishita Bonita." He winks and clicks at her.

…And Trish's calm flew out the window…

"Oh, no…No, no, no, no, no! _Not you too! _It's bad enough I have to hear that from _Chuck_!" Trish grits her teeth. "I swear, If you call me that again, Freckles, the Tooth Fairy's gonna have to leave you a lotta cash." She waves her fist in front of his face.

Taking a few moments to register what she had just said, Dez then covers his mouth and squeals, frightened. "No! Not my pearly whites! I need these! For chewing and stuff!"

Trish continues to glare at him as she unbuckles and hops out of the car. She realizes that Dez had never answered her question from earlier.

Too late.

Dez waves goodbye as he starts to drive off. _She totally digs me_, he thinks to himself.

Though, she asked a good question earlier. _What is he going to do now?_

He thought of several possibilities. His wide array of interests made it difficult to come to any strong decisions. Most of them being pretty artsy sort of things is helpful to know. At least he could figure out what kinds of schools he would like to apply to. Imagining life as an MD, accountant, or engineer would seem so strange to him - not to mention, catastrophic.

He ran a couple ideas through his head – trying his best to focus on the road, as well. He didn't need any more scares today. Two is plenty, he figures, thinking back to the previous almost-car accident as well as the movie he had watched with Trish. And well, Trish herself being pretty frightening when angry, as well…

He spends the next hour or so running the errands for his mom that he had mentioned before. He hoped that doing so would inspire him somehow. Strangely enough, they actually did.

He walks into his home, grocery bags in his arms, shouting out to no one in particular. "I know what I must do!"

"That's nice, honey – just leave the bags in the kitchen!" His mom calls out to him from the other room. "And thank you, dear." Dez does as told, then walks over to his mother.

"Hey, mom…" Dez starts rubbing the back of his neck. "Can I borrow a few things?"


	5. Chapter 5 - Morning Makeover Madness

**And the next chapter! Woot! I apologize for the italics abuse here.**

* * *

"Trish, I need you!" spoke a desperate voice at the other end of the phone.

"Wha…Who is this?" Trish sits up in her bed, eyes still closed shut. She holds her cell up to her ear.

"C'mon, Trish. How can you possibly not recognize my voice by now!" the caller answers. Trish rubs her eyes with her free hand, then opens them up slightly.

"Dez…? DEZ?!" She shouts out, eyes opening up wide now. She quickly quiets herself, noting the time on her alarm clock. _4 AM_. "…Dez…" she says in a hushed, but very malicious tone. "Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?"

Dez shrugs, not that she could see, of course. "I dunno. I kinda lost track after two…" he trails off. It's silent for a few moments, until Trish speaks up.

"Dez…What in the _elephant tractor_ _pineapple _do you want at this _unholy_ hour?" Trish mutters, incredibly peeved. Doesn't he know that she has to get up for work in a few hours?

Actually, he probably _does_ know. He probably also knows that she's not going to show up to work.

"_Well_…?" she continues.

"I need a test dummy to practice with, and you'd be perfect for the job!" Dez proclaims with excitement. _More excitement than anyone should have at this hour_.

"What. Did. You. Call. Me?" Trish growls, her tone getting a tiny bit louder, and even more hostile.

"Uh…Uh…Uh…Uh…Uh…" Dez tries to quickly think up a way to calm her down. "You see…I'm trying my hand at make-up and hair styling!"

"Wh-" Trish starts.

"-And," Dez cuts Trish off before she can say anything insulting, "I thought you'd be a perfect test subject. The dum-erm…The fake head I have here just doesn't seem to cut it."

"Why?" Trish questions, the bellicose tone in her voice still ever-present. "Because you think I _need_ a make-over?" She decides not to ask about the reason he happened to have a fake head.

"N-No. Of course, not…I-I-I just thought that uhm…" Yeah, he did it now. Put himself in an incredibly tight spot. _C'mon Dez, fix this_, he mentally urges himself. Without thinking it through, he squeaks out something he thought he'd never say, "Because…Because…Y-you're gorgeous!" _Not that he thought it wasn't true._

Trish falls silent, completely dumbfounded. Weirded out? Certainly. Flattered? Supposedly. Sleepy? _Incredibly_. She figures that Dez probably is too, and that he tends to spit out more nonsense than usual at this time of night. After a few moments, she manages to respond. "I know I am. But anyway, what's my incentive?"

"I'll pay you twenty bucks," Dez states flatly. _Why can't she just do me a favor for once?_, he wonders.

As if hearing his thoughts, she responds, "Dez, I'm not one to do favors, especially at four in the morning. You better give me more than a lousy twenty, chico."

"Did you just call me a chicken?" Dez asks, utterly confused.

Trish lets out a very exasperated sigh. "No, that's not what 'chico' means, and Dez - don't change the subject."

"I'll pay you fifty bucks, then!" the red-head offers.

"Deal. _But it better not be fifty male deer_," Trish warns, knowing Dez very well.

"Psh, c'mon Trish. I'm not an idiot. Where would I find fifty deers? If anything, I'd get mooses…" Dez chuckles a bit, messing with the hair on the fake head in front of him.

"It's _deer_ and _moose_, you dimwit. I know you can't speak a word of Spanish, but can you at _least_ get your _English_ straight?" Trish runs a hand through her poofy bed-headed hair, trying to get it out of her face.

"So anyway, you coming? I'll swing by to pick you up!"

"Drive with you? _Again?_ After what happened yesterday? Uh-uh, I don't think so, Freckles. I can walk to your place anyway." Trish shakes her head. If he doesn't get his license revoked soon, she'll have to confront his parents and make them do it.

"Alone? At this time?" Dez worries. Sure, she's Trish. She'd probably be better off alone at this time of night than he would ever be - but anybody can be a potential target. "You sure? I can drive you, it's no problem…I'll be careful this time, I promise!" he pleads, the sound of concern in his voice.

"I'm already out the door, Dez," Trish responds. She managed to get downstairs, grab a coat, and sneak her way out of the house while speaking with him. "Also, my parents will definitely ground me if they find that I snuck out. Say of a word of this to anyone and I'll have to charge you triple, and knock out a few of your teeth while I'm at it."

Dez gulps, then responds shakily, "Understood. See ya soon, Trish." He hangs up. She's not in a good mood. Perhaps inviting her over, especially at this time, wasn't the brightest of ideas.

* * *

Trish finally arrives at the doorstep of Dez's house. It's a pretty chilly night, and Trish waits impatiently; the hot air of her heavy breathing clearly visible in front of her face. Dez texted her a few minutes ago, advising her not to knock, knowing that it would wake up the rest of his family. He said that he'd be waiting by the door, checking through a window to see when she shows up, so that he could let her in. So far, no sign of Dez.

After about two minutes, she angrily starts to text him. As she is doing so, the door opens up, revealing Dez in his banana pajamas. Typical Dez.

"What took you so long?" Trish hisses at him through her teeth. She walks in, sighing happily at the warm, inviting atmosphere inside his home. Dez closes the front door softly, then leads Trish over to his room. "Okay, so, we'll need to keep quiet cause my family's asleep. They get pretty cranky when woken up this early in the morning. Can you believe that?"

Trish glares at him, responding in her utmost sarcastic tone, "No, _really?_"

Dez takes Trish gently by the wrist and sits her on a salon chair.

_Did he just buy this?_, she wonders.

Why he happened to have a salon chair, she figures that she should not ask. Probably the same reason he has a fake head. Speaking of which, he had it turned facing her. The thing is ridiculously creepy, but Dez actually did a pretty decent job on its make-up. Trish feels a tad bit relieved. Her hair is already a mess; she did not need to see herself in sloppily-done make-up, as well. Granted, she'd wash it off anyway.

Dez starts with her hair. She specifically asked him not to make it shorter, so, being wary of that warning, he manages with what he's got – snipping only little bits that he deemed necessary. Trish did not like people touching her hair, usually. She has a hard time trusting people with scissors that close to her neck, knowing that she wouldn't even trust herself doing the same. Dez may be a clumsy goofball, but he'd be careful with her, _right_?

"_Right?_" Trish says aloud, without thinking.

"Right what?" Dez asks, his eyes not lifting from her hair as he works away vigorously at it.

"You're not gonna stab me with those scissors, are you? You're gonna be careful, right? Dez, if I even get the slightest nick-" Trish states, growing more and more nervous as her anxieties flow out of her mouth.

"-Don't worry," Dez says softly. He starts massaging her head gently while drying off her wet hair that he had just rinsed through. Trish starts to relax a bit more. This is actually kind of nice, like a day at the spa. Except with less cucumbers, and more of a strange, unsettling odor that filled Dez's bedroom. Aside from that, this early-morning trip seemed almost worth it.

* * *

About an hour and a half later, Dez had finished up with his "masterpiece", as he called it. He turns Trish around in the salon chair to face the mirror.

"So…What do you think?" Dez asks, in a bit of a cocky, yet sleep-deprived, tone of voice. "Grea, righ?" he yawns.

As much as Trish does not want to admit it, Dez did a pretty fantastic job. He decided to keep her natural curls, but gave it a little more shape and got it all 'under control', as he put it. _Even wild, her hair is pretty awesome_, he thinks. He figures that it would be interesting to try something new while keeping the same flair her hair naturally has.

For make-up, he did a nice simple smokey-eye look with natural tones on the rest of her face. For a guy who loves bright colors so much, this is unexpected. She notices the brightly-colored curly patterns at the outer corners of her eyes , giving it just a smidge of that Dez-flair. _That's _the Whack-a-Doodle style that she's come to know and tolerate.

"Dez…This…This is actually worth the trip over here," Trish nods approvingly, admiring herself in the mirror. _Impressive_. "You still owe me fifty dollars, though." She turns to Dez, who had fallen asleep standing up, his head resting on the top of the chair. He had only heard the first half of what she said.

Trish strains her tired eyes with an eye-roll and proceeds to get Dez tucked into his bed – which is by no means an easy task. After struggling for a little bit, she succeeds. She tiptoes her way out, then rushes on home.

Once Trish arrives, she does not even bother washing any of the make-up off. She sneaks her way through the door and up to her bedroom, managing not to awaken any of her sleeping family members.

She goes to bed, feeling like a beauty queen.

The fact that Dez made her feel this way did not cross her mind at all.

* * *

**Managed to write in a smidge of romance! Sort of…Sorry if this was too corny you guys, I'm trying. P:**


	6. Chapter 6 - More Makeover Magic

**Gah, so sorry for the delay! D: Writer's block and life getting in the way.**

**I hope to get more chapters done very soon! I hope you like this. :)**

* * *

"So…Trish, what's going on with Dez?" Ally asks, sitting on her best friend's bed while she paints her own toenails. This had become somewhat of a Saturday-noon routine for the girls. With their lives being so busy recently, Ally and Trish had to make sure to cram enough "girl time" in together. It's been scarce lately, as Ally had been working towards her own career and Trish being so busy booking gigs and making network connections for her two clients. It's a wonder that Trish had been able to give Dez so much of her time recently.

"Ally, that color doesn't go with your outfit. Try this one," Trish hands her another bottle of nail polish. "And I'm still working on it. I took him to a movie, y'know, to try and get him inspired again. I thought it would be a good motivator. He said that he still wants to make movies, just…More as a hobby than anything else."

"You think he'll still be willing to do videos for Austin?" Ally asks. "I mean…I don't want to pressure him into it, it's just that, Austin seems to only want Dez doing his videos."

Trish shrugs, letting out a heavy, yet sharp exhale. "I don't know, Ally. I could ask him. I'm kinda concerned, though. What if he _does _decide to get back into film? Will he have enough time to meet the short film submission deadline?"

"That's a good point." Ally stays quiet in thought for a few minutes, while continuing to paint her toenails.

Trish, using the end of a bobby pin, paints little flower designs onto Ally's toenails once the first coat dries. While painting Trish's nails, Ally notices the residue of make-up, still fairly fresh, upon her friend's face.

"Did you go somewhere last night, Trish?" Ally asks, growing curious. Trish isn't one to wear more than just a little bit of eye make-up, unless it was a special event.

"Oh. Heh. Yeah, get this – Dez called me up early this morning and-" Trish starts to explain.

"Oh, my gosh – did you get ready just to meet him?" Ally squeals, in shock. Did Trish want to look good for _Dez_? Trish just stares at her, a very unamused look on her face.

"What?! Ew. No! Ally, he called me over to _do_ my make-up. Like _I'd_ ever get glammed-up for that _bozo_," Trish scoffs. "But, y'know, he actually did a pretty good job. Weird, right?"

"Dez knows how to do make-up?" Ally tilts her head at Trish. "I want to say I'm surprised, but I don't think I really am."

Trish nods, chuckling a bit. "It is _Dez_, after all."

"What is me?" Dez asks, suddenly entering the room. Trish and Ally look over at him, and try their best to hold in the laughter trying to burst out. It seems that he had decided to practice his new trade a bit more…

On himself.

The red-head stares at them as they make the goofiest of faces, trying to hold in their laughs. "What?"

Trish lets out a little chuckle, "Dez, wha-what are you doing here? Like _that_?"

"Oh, I just wanted to return this," he hands her a little pink scrunchie. "You left it at my place. Also, your mom thinks that these two tones I used on my eyes clash, but I dunno…I kinda like the way they complement my freckles. They are _so_ my colors. What do you think?" he asks, pointing at his eyelids.

"I think you've got a little too much caked on your face, Dez." Ally smiles, trying to be nice. It's not as if a boy wearing make-up would be a bad thing, necessarily. She is just not used to it being on Dez. Granted, there is a lot about this boy she does not know, so she tries her best to be sensitive.

Trish, on the other hand…

"Wipe that crud off your face and come fix my hair," Trish orders him, but in more of a playful and friendly manner than anything else. Dez smiles, and heads over to the nearest bathroom to wash it all off– feeling quite accomplished at getting at least a little laugh out of them both.

* * *

"Hold still, Trish!" Dez complains, struggling to brush her hair.

"I'm trying but –ow! Watch it, doof!" Trish cries out when the brush tugs at her scalp too harshly. "Ugh."

"It's a lot more tangled than it was last night," Dez frowns. "Ally, mind assisting me?"

"Not at all, Dez!" she smiles sweetly and comes to her best friend's aid. "Easy now, Trish. I know how bad tangles can be. Remember that time you got that brush stuck in my hair?" Ally laughs, reminiscing a little.

"Hehe - yeah! It took forever to get that out." Trish grins, now distracted away from the pain, if at least for a little while.

After a few more minutes of effort, struggling through the wilderness of Trish's lovely curls, they manage to detangle the lot of it. After doing so, Dez continues on with styling it, yet again, going for something a bit different this time.

Ally glances at her phone and her eyes go wide. "Oh no! I'm gonna be late for meeting Austin!"

"For what? You two going on a _date_?" Trish smirks at her, teasingly. There had been a bit of tension between the two singers lately, and they both know it, too. However, they figure that being friends for the time being might make everything less hectic. Relationships are a lot of work! And with their careers taking off, it might be too much of a distraction. However, a little bit of harmless flirting did occur from time to time.

Ally simply rolls her eyes and explains calmly, "We need to finish our song, Trish. Jimmy gave us some notes on improvements we could make to it, so we need to adjust some things." She puts her phone into her purse, then gathers up her bottles of nail polish and tosses them in, as well. "Sorry for abandoning you with Dez again, Trish. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She starts out the door. "Oh! Also – good luck tonight!" Ally gives her a very cheesy and awkward wink. Trish shakes her head, smiling as Ally takes her leave.

"Okay, so what do you feel about highlights? I was thinking-" Dez pauses. "Wait…What did Ally mean by 'good luck tonight'?" His brows knit together, a look of confusion upon his face. Does Trish have plans? He was hoping she would be free all day today to help him out with his trials of various career paths.

"Oh! Yeah, I have a date tonight. It's this guy I met at work. His name is Lakshman, but he goes by Lucky. You might know him, he goes to our school, apparently," Trish explains, now texting said boy. She shrugs. "Usual stuff, dinner and a movie."

Dez frowns, a strange and unsettling feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, "Aww. What am I supposed to do all day then? You're busy, Austin and Ally are busy…Even Chuck is busy!"

"Doing what?" Trish questions, wondering why Dez even asked Chuck to hang out with him. Maybe their feud really did end?

"I dunno…Chuck stuff?" Dez shrugs. "Probably another competition so he can rub his prize in my face again."

Nope. Feud's still alive and kickin'.

"Dez, my date's at seven. We can hang out until then," Trish offers, continuing to text while Dez proceeds with styling her hair. "Also, to answer your previous question, highlights are nice. Just don't overdo it." Dez acknowledges this, and grabs a small few boxes of hair dye out of his bag. Once he decides on the chestnut color, he prepares it.

"So…What movie are you seeing?" Dez asks as he starts highlighting parts of her hair, very carefully. Trish certainly would not show any mercy if he messes up her hair.

"I dunno, it's a Bollywood movie I think? Like, an Indian film. It's in Hindi, but they have English subtitles. I've never seen one before, but I think it's worth a shot! Plus, I like musicals…And if Lucky's into it, I guess I can get into, too…" she rambles on. "I just hope he gets me something nice."

"Ooooh! Can I come with? I _love_ those movies!" Dez asks, staring off at the wall with a goofy smile plastered onto his face.

"First of all – pay attention when you're doing my hair, dimwit!" Trish shouts at him. Dez quickly snaps out of his trance, and continues highlighting. "Secondly – Dez. Don't be stupid. It's a date, I wanna be alone with the guy."

"I watched movies with you and Trent and you and Roger when you dated them!" Dez complains, crossing his arms and pouting – akin to a five-year-old throwing a tantrum.

"You were never invited, Dez. You were just there," Trish points out, turning to glare at the redhead. "You done with my hair yet?"

"No…I still gotta add the final touches, turn back around…" Dez requests, twirling his index finger. Trish does as told, then turns her attention back to her phone. Then, Dez begrudgingly continues with her hair, pout still present on his face.

* * *

Trish starts growing a bit antsy from sitting still for so long – and having to stare at Dez while he does her make-up. She cracks him up a few times, making silly faces when she got bored of sitting still with a straight face. At one point, he even starts tearing up from his laughter and messes up on a bit of her make-up - which he had to redo, naturally. It didn't bother Trish much, though. She enjoys how easily amused he is.

One last pat of blush on her cheek, and Dez reels back to admire his work. "Done!" he turns the girl to face the mirror. "How's it look?"

"Oh, wow! It's actually even better than what you did this morning. What'd you do – stay up all night watching make-up tutorials on the internet?" Trish asks him, giving him a knowing look.

"N-No!" Dez exclaims, defensively. Trish stares him down until he breaks. "Oh, okay. Fine! Maybe I did. It's just that…When you click on one, you find another…And then another…And then another…And then I ended up on the weird part of that website. There was a-"

"-Yeah I don't really wanna about know that, Dez. Also, I can't believe I'm saying this, but thanks for glamming me up, Dez," Trish rarely ever complimented the guy, but she deemed his work today worthy of it.

"No, no, thank _you_, Trish. I've finally realized…" Dez starts off, sounding very serious.

"-That you wanna go to beauty school?" Trish cuts him off.

"Nah. I've realized that make-up's not my thing. Let's go do something else! I got this awesome magic kit that I've been dying to try out! Wanna be my assistant?" Dez pulls the magic kit out of his backpack. How a kit that large even fit in there, especially with all of the cosmetics, Trish would never understand.

"Can't you ask my little brother? He's likes that magic junk," Trish comments. "Plus, I don't wanna be sawed in half…Again."

"Yeah, but I already did your make-up and I don't think JJ would look that great in this sparkly dress," Dez pulls one out of his bag. "It's not really his color."

"Dez! How do you even know my size?" Trish raises a brow at him, as if that was the only weird part about this whole thing.

"Uh, duh," Dez remarks in a snarky tone. "You take me shopping with you whenever Ally's busy. I pay attention, I'm not an idiot." He pauses for a second, then adds, "Oh! Hey, can I hang out with your legs again when I saw you in half?!"

"Dez, you are not, I repeat, ARE NOT going to saw me in half," Trish growls at him. Dez's pout returns.

"Fine. But will you be my assistant anyway?" Dez pleads, binding his hands together and putting on his best 'sad puppy' face.

"Stop that. You know that doesn't work on me," Trish crosses her arms. Ally and Austin might, but Trish would not let Dez manipulate her.

Dez lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing what he must do. "Well, I'm gonna be broke after this, but…I'll pay you."

However, bribery usually works on Trish.

"Deal!" the duo shake hands and Trish picks up the sparkly dress, then heads to the bathroom to change. It'll be a bit tricky putting it on without messing up her hair, though. Dez should have asked her beforehand.

* * *

**Well, that's a wrap for this chap! For those who are unaware of it, Bollywood is, however not synonymous with it, Indian Cinema. It's also referred to as "Hindi Cinema". Check out this wiki article for more info!: wiki/Bollywood**

**It's something I grew up with, thought I might add it as a little tidbit in the story.**

**Next up…Dez's magic act!**


End file.
